Welcome to Diagon Alley
by tearsofphoenix
Summary: Three famous wizards' first trip through observant eyes.


Welcome to Diagon Alley 

By tearsofphoenix

Standard Disclaimer applies - it's all JKR's.

Thanks one more time to whitehound and to her wonderful attention and for the revision of the English in this story.

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_Wizards and witches will always remember their first trip to Diagon Alley, but few of them would consider it to be a journey which would shed light on their future… however, one old wizard kept the memory of everybody who passed through his shop, and he had good foresight…_

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The first boy entered with a self confident manner, and this, to an extent, gave the wizard the first hint about his being someone different from the usual shy young customers.

This hadn't been the first visit in his purchasing, the older man noticed. His highly trained and observant eye could perceive many other interesting details…

Handsome, dark-haired and tall, he had gone alone, a leather money-pouch in his pocket with enough money for what he had to do. The first item on the list was "uniform" so he had started at Madam Malkin's.

The wand maker could have guessed the thoughts of the boy, but strangely this time an obstacle prevented him from gaining access…

What the boy kept sealed in his mind was his reaction to this new world: he had noticed the strange clothes that the people walking all around him were wearing, but he hadn't wasted his time on wonder and had quickly put every picture in a perfectly organized album, so that he could use that piece of information when it could be spent to his advantage.

The witch, dressed in mauve, who had greeted him with a smile had easily found the perfect robes for him. Black suited him, and he liked it.

The wand maker Accioed some boxes and with a flick of his own wand opened them.

In front of his astonished eyes the boy summoned one of them quickly, without hesitation.

"Yew, 13½", single phoenix tail feather" murmured the older wizard with reverence when a glowing light encircled the boy's hand and body.

The boy didn't know about happiness, but he had heard the word and what he felt that moment was the nearest thing to that feeling. This must have been his parent's world. He had to know more of it and to learn what had led him to an orphanage.

He wasn't grateful to the annoying old wizard for anything but for one fact: he wanted power and vengeance, he should have had it, and here was the right place to begin to obtain it, whatever the cost.

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The second boy entered quite unnoticed.

His aspect resembled that of many among his predecessors; entering here with a mixture of pride, shyness and surprise to buy the most important item among their school purchases. Perhaps this was the reason why most of them didn't choose "Ollivander's - Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." as the first stop during their trip.

Thin, dark-haired and almost ashamed about his tall figure, the young wizard had gone shopping with his mother, one beautiful day, one of the last days of the summer's holidays.

The boy's mind and aspect weren't difficult to read.

The witch near him had led the young wizard to the first shop they had to visit, attentively following the list of required items, and all the time she had been talking to her son. The boy loved her voice, maybe the only beautiful thing she had.

She wasn't a beautiful woman; she was the athletic type and her build was perhaps too tall and strong for the canon of women's beauty. More, the years hadn't been merciful to her, since many white hairs could be seen where there had once been only black. But the boy didn't mind, this fact was transparent; she was his mum, and he seemed to have always known that she loved him, even in the worst moments of their life.

As the boy begun to try the wands, the older wizard had another insight regarding his recent meetings.

He had been proud to have arrived, finally, in this new world, her world, and had entered into the first shop with many expectations. There were already some boys there trying on the right robes for their size.

He hadn't wished to meet some of his future school mates so early - he was still feeling the need to know this place better. They were joking, and he knew that it wasn't possible they already did so to his detriment; but old habits die hard, and the feeling of something already suffered cast a shadow on him.

Luckily his mother had his uniform, ready to wear, in her slender hands, so he didn't pay any further attention to the little laughing group, and leaving the shop he went, quietly and oblivious to all else, towards the shining sight of a stack of cauldrons.

Black suited him, much more than the grey he had often worn in the Muggle school.

The wand maker, looking at the boy with different eyes, offered:

"Spanish reed, 14½", occamy's feather: conducive to flexibility," he explained, "unbreakable strength and defensive power".

The boy smiled, bitterly, but in keeping hold of the wooden stick he felt such a wonderful warmth through his whole body… that finally his eyes showed real joy.

He was now eager to know more; this world fascinated him, he wanted knowledge and he wanted respect, and he should have had it: here was the right place to begin to obtain it, whatever the cost.

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The third boy had, in a sense, been awaited.

His age was well known to everyone, this year… and many waited to see him, finally in the rightful place that he had deserved since before his birth.

He recognized him at first sight: his father's appearance, even if less self confident; his mother's eyes.

Thin, not tall, and with messy dark hair, he had gone accompanied by the half giant, perhaps the first person he could call friend in his life, to purchase what he would need in the mysterious new school.

What the old wand maker saw through the boy's mind was an enchantment: _shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments he had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon_… the boy had been amazed and had been reminded of old movies, or of those strange postcards seen at Mrs Figg's house during his childhood years, pictures that he had until that day considered similar to the drawings in the books he'd looked at at his Muggle school… _David Copperfield_, _Oliver Twist_… but now he was really meeting the strangest people ever seen. This was his world, finally.

Black would have suited him, much more than the old, misshapen clothes inherited from his cousin that he was, even now, still wearing.

The boy, after many attempts, was found by his wand. Of course, the wand maker had thought, what other wand could it have been?

"Holly, 11", supple, single phoenix tail feather".

He was happy, and the old wizard had seen his relief after all the failures with the wrong wands: surely the boy had been truly worried that he might not really have been part of this enchantment. This must have been his parent's world, he was sure, now. He had to ask more about it and to learn what had led him to the cupboard where he had spent almost his whole life until now.

He wanted his true life back, and he should have had it, and here was the right place to begin whatever he had to do to obtain it, whatever the cost.

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_The old wand maker was lost in his memories… _

The first boy had achieved the power he sought, but only temporarily, thank Merlin.

The second boy had gained respect at the end of a hard journey, but alive and unbroken, thank Nimue.

The third boy had conquered his life, thanks to the defence and help given by the second boy and through victory against the first.

_Even if it is the wand that chooses the wizard, it is the wizard that chooses how to use it._

A/N: _The title and the description, in italics, of Harry's first glimpse of the shops' wares are borrowed from the first book, of course._

_The magical core and the wood of Snape's wand are – like his Patronus and so many things about him – unknown. Spanish reed is the Mediterranean plant _Arundo donax_, also called giant reed or wild cane, which is very flexible but very strong, and which provides the "reed" used in woodwind instruments. It is not native to Britain, but is sometimes grown there as an ornamental garden plant. Thanks to whitehound for researching suitable reeds on the net for me._

_I borrowed the feather from a magical creature, a plumed snake, about which Lexicon says:_

A beautiful, carnivorous creature … resembling a winged snake, but plumed, having two legs, and reaching up to fifteen feet in length. As occamy eggshells are formed from pure soft silver, the occamy's reputation for aggression may be overstated, as most of its interaction with humans probably has consisted of defense of its eggs.

_The reasons for the other features are explained by Ollivander, and there is no need, I hope, to tell you why I gave Snape's wand those properties._


End file.
